Taken Down
by dyingonaprayer
Summary: It was an accident, a stupid accident. An accident that would cost him years if he survived. IF he survived.


It seemed so silly that one of them could be taken down by something so stupid after all they'd been through.

I mean, they stared serial killers in the face every day and one of them ended up dying because he needed batteries.

Morgan had sent him to go them when the flashlights all died. We were in New York on a case. So Spencer drove away in his car and that was the last time any of us saw him the way we used to.

Hours later, when JJ inquired as to why he hadn't come back yet, Hotch called Reid's cell.

It's not what you except, there was an answer. It just wasn't who we thought would answer.

"-stupid! How did you not notice the john doe had a phone?" someone said.

"Shh, I answered." Some else said. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" Rossi asked.

"I'm Dr. Crest at New York General."

"What, where is Dr. Reid?" Morgan asked.

"Dr. Reid, okay thank you. He's here. You might want to get down here it's looking grim." She said.

"What? What happened?"

"Just uh… get down here. I'll explain when you get here."

Hotch hung up the phone and we rushed into the SUV, speeding (with the lights on) towards the hospital in question.

Dr. Crest was there to greet us at the door.

"Hello, I'm very sorry to inform you us this, but Dr. Reid has been in a terrible accident. I want to say this strait off. There is very low chance of him surviving. Some idiot was smoking at the gas station and dropped the cigarette practically in the gas pump. Dr. Reid has sustained burns on 86% of his body. The blast hit him from the back. He had the sense to cover his head, but his arms aren't in good shape. If he survives I doubt the possibility of him walking. He is refusing to be put out and he's in severe pain. We're sorry you didn't get a call but he… hasn't really been able to tell us who he is. We seemed to have missed his cell phone. Any questions?"

"Can we… see him?" JJ asked.

"Yes, but I'm warning you… he isn't… doing very well."

I was surprised to see the doctor quickly wipe a tear away from her eye. This was really bad.

We had to wear scrubs and sterilize ourselves before we could enter the room, so there was no chance of infection.

When we walked into the room I turned around, I almost gagged. "Oh god." I whispered.

Reid lay in the bed. His face was miraculously untouched but… He was lying on top of the sheets, so I could see practically his entire body. His legs were lacerated with burns, they formed this weird patter, there were black circles in the middle spiraling out in shades of red and purple. Then the outer edges were white. His arms… oh god there was almost nothing left. In places I could see his bone, it was charred and black but I could see it. The skin that was left was completely black.

Morgan reached out and touched my shoulder. "Em." He said.

"It's 'kay, Morgan." Reid said, his voice laced with pain. I thought about how much it had hurt when Doyle burned me. I shuddered, imagining that times five thousand. "I know how it looks…"

"I'm sorry Reid." I said. "I was just thinking about how much that must hurt…." I said, shuddering again.

JJ was pushing against her eyelids, trying to hold back her tears. Hotch was looking down at Reid, probably thinking about how he had failed to protect him. Rossi stood off in the corner, watching silently, as though afraid the sound of his voice would shatter Reid into a million pieces. And Morgan… poor Morgan was staring down at Reid, his little brother, with a horrible expression of guilt.

"Can we… not… talk about… pain?" he rasped through gritted teeth.

"Alright, pretty boy," Morgan said, snapping back into loving older bro mode. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Can you guys… just do me… a favor, and no matter… what I say, don't let them give me any narcotics?"

"Yeah, sure." I said. "But are you um… sure?"

"You mean what's the point if I'm going to die? Well, I'm not giving in. There's still a 16.7% chance I'll live." He says.

"Why don't you want any?" Rossi asks suddenly.

"Any… drugs?" Reid asks.

"Yes. I mean if you don't want to talk about it, but I think the team should everything about each other, there is, as you said, a 16.7% chance that you'll live."

"A while back, before Gideon left I got…" Reid paused to wince in pain, "kidnapped. By a man named Tobias Henkel. He drugged me and I became addicted."

"Oh." Rossi says. He nods slightly. "Thank you. For telling me the truth, I mean."

Reid shudders slightly and lets out a cry of pain.

"Are you okay?" Hotch asks.

"No." he says simply.

There is a long silent pause before I ask awkwardly "Has anyone called Garcia?"

"No… Who should call?" says Hotch.

No one volunteers, who wants to be the bringer of bad news. Guess it's time to break out the straws.

I loose, so I head out into to the cold (no phones in the hospital) to make the call.

"Goddess of all things tech, how can I help?" she says.

"Garcia." I say.

"Hey Em, what's up?"

I pause. "I have some bad news…"

Garcia turned serious. "What happened?"

"It's Reid, there was an accident, it's not… it's not looking so good."

"Where are you?" she asks.

I tell her and she hangs up without even saying goodbye, no doubt heading to the airport.

I let a few tears fall down from my eyes and let out a small sob. I pull myself together and head inside.

"Please guys, the case… you have to work on the case. I'll be…" he pauses to let air out of his gritted teeth. "Fine for a little while at least. You have to save that little girl."

Rossi and Hotch glance at each other. "We'll take turns coming here." Hotch says.

"Please…" I say, surprised to hear the words coming though my mouth. "Can I just… stay?"

Hotch and Rossi share another glance and a slight nod. "Alright." Hotch says. "Someone else will come in an hour." He adds.

After the team leaves, I realize Reid doesn't want me to know how much pain he really is in.

"Reid… I don't mind. I know it hurts. Don't hold it in on account of me. I'm here in case you need me."

He tries to speak but a strangled cry comes out. "I'm… sorry…" he struggles out. "I just... it hurts…"

"I know Reid, it's fine."

He calls out in pain again. A nurse comes in to apply healing cream and replace his bandages.

"Dr. Reid, were going to put a new medicine on you, okay? It's non-narcotic, but it will hurt. Are you okay with this?" a doctor says, walking in.

"Okay." He says.

The nurse begins to apply it and Reid screams at the pain. He reaches for my hand and I give it to him. He grasps it so tightly, I'm afraid the blood will stop flowing to it.

"Shh, Reid it's okay." I say. "Spencer…" I pause. Only JJ ever called him by his first name. "It's going to be okay. Alright? Stay with me."

"Emily…" he whispers, gripping my hand even more tightly.

After the doctor finished applying the cream, Reid was writhing in pain.

"It might be a rough few hours." She says to me.

I hold Reid's hand the entire time.

About fifteen minutes after they applied the cream, Morgan came.

"Hey Em." He looked towards Reid. "What did they…" he asks.

"They decided to try a new medicine." I explain. "They said it would hurt but he said okay anyway."

"Oh." Morgan says. "Garcia should be here soon. She got held up at the airport."

As if on cue, she walks into the room.

Her lips form an immediate O shape as her eyes register Reid.

"Oh my… oh my god." She says.

Tears fall down from her eyes and her mascara goes with it.

"Reid." She says. "Oh god, I'm so sorry."

"It's 'kay. Garcia, not your fault." He replies.

He spasms and cries out in pain.

"Are you okay?" Morgan says.

"Yeah." He smiles slightly. "Guess what. My chance of surviving increased from 16.7 to 23.5."

I smile too. "That's great Reid."

Morgan doesn't seem so enthusiastic. "Yeah." He mumbles.

"Let's just hope it keeps going up." Says Garcia.

Days and days of unbearable pain passed. A week, and then two. When we finally solve the case, they decide that Reid (whose chance of surviving is now 45.8) is well enough to be moved to Virginia.

Every day I visit him. Every day he works through the pain, little by little until he increases his chance of survival to 100%. He works and chips away at the pain and the burns little by little pushing a little farther into healing every day.

One step closer every day.

It's 176 days before he can go home.

It's another 98 before he can start physical therapy to see if they can get his legs working again.

It's 61 before he takes an unassisted step.

It's 119 before he can walk fully.

It's 65 before he can return to work.

It's 49 before he's cleared for field work.

It's another 13 before Hotch actually lets him.

It's 4 years in all.

4 years until things get back to normal.

All because some idiot decided he needed a smoke.

It seemed silly that one of us could be taken down for so long, by something so stupid.


End file.
